


Maybe Love is True

by kopescetic



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: (oh my god they were roomates), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bad Jokes, Band Fic, Bipolar Disorder, Childhood Friends, Depression, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, F/F, GUYS, Human Catra (She-Ra), Hurt/Comfort, Let Catra (She-Ra) Say Fuck, Mental Health Issues, Not Beta Read, OKAY im not on mobile anymore so I can go nuts w tags, Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra)'s A+ Parenting, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, adora and catra are so in love, aka the better glimmer/bow pairing name, and is the only one, and they were roomates, brought to you by being 18 and having an adulthood crisis, brought to you by my hyperfixation, catra but if she had slightly better mental health, domestic glow, idk why but i just feel it, my she ra playlist SLAPS idk what y'all are talking about, ok goodnight, only a lttle, please read this or ill cry, probably, scorpia has her shit together, still a catgirl in spirit, that do adult things like drive and do taxes, they are adults, they just won't admit it, this fic is important, uh, well im not 18 yet but by the time you read this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:27:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24697558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kopescetic/pseuds/kopescetic
Summary: Catra doesn't believe in love. Not anymore.A Wedding Singer/Band AU featuring a lot of feelings, and a lot of songs that make me feel them
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra), Mermista/Sea Hawk (She-Ra), Perfuma/Scorpia (She-Ra)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 49





	1. I wasn't supposed to miss you

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I stayed up until 6 in the morning to write this! No regrets!!!
> 
> Also, notice this is tagged with Period Typical Homophobia. Quick disclaimer, the period in question is like. 2010. (Which is a full ten years ago, and. Wow.) the homophobia in question is Legislative and only relevent in the U.S and probably won't be mentioned ever again. 
> 
> This chapter also has some implied references to manic episodes in reference to Bipolar depression. If thats an issue for you, please protect yourself! Its barely mentioned here, but there may be more in depth mentions in the future, which I will tag, and add trigger warnings in the beginning notes.
> 
> Thank you!

Catra doesn't believe in love. Not anymore.

After spending most of her teenage, then young adult life playing at weddings (all typically gorgeous, typically religious and romantic and fucking _lovely_ ), and watching numbly as the celebrations of love turned celebration of money, turned festive divorce, could you blame her? 

This all seems very dramatic and emo, unless youve been through it. It's time thats made Catra cynical about love, and nothing else. _No one else_ , or so she reminds herself. 

Catra has wanted to be a musician for as long as her hands were big enough to hold a guitar. Her desire runs deeper, longer than anything else in her life has. Nothing motivates her like the opportunity to perform (or, the threat that she may never again).

Even now that she's pushing 26 and feeling far, far older than that, her childhood dream is the only thing she has going for her. And she means _only_ thing- no family, few friends, no internet connection. Catra hasn't talked to anyone that wasn't a mother of the bride, her roomates, or her therapist in a good solid six months. 

Her music career was going nowhere- she _knew_ that, but it didn't stop her from continuing. She worked often enough, didn't make good money, but she was able to pay her part of the rent often enough to not piss off her landlord, so that was something.

It _had_ to be enough.Otherwise the very fabric of her life, the groundwork she build everything around would collapse into so much rubble. 

Things were stable now, at the very least. Catra's therapist says stability is vital to healing, so shit; Let the healing fucking commence!

Even as her eyes glaze over as she tries to focus on the sheet music of a wedding mass she could play in her sleep, she has everything she's ever wanted. She's _stable_ , and thats enough to rub in her past's face.

Or, at least she tells herself that.

* * *

_"You may now kiss the bride."_

_Catra plays a happy chord, and Adora puts down her viola to applaud along with the rest of the wedding party. She puts a fist up and whoops as the couple kisses, as if it was unexpected. As if the priest didnt say they were going to do just that._

_"What, arent you happy, catra?"_

_"Hah. No."_

_"But theyre s o cute!"_

_"The groom is wearing jeans"_

_"Theyre...stylish jeans"_

_"One of the groomsmen is open carrying"_

_"He's a cop!"_

_"Fuck cops"_

_"Theyre High School Sweethearts, Catra!"_

_"Adora….we're high school sweethearts"_

_"Yeah, but we're not gonna get married."_

_Ouch._

_"Whats the deal, anyway? With you and marriage."_

_"It's romantic"_

_"You can't even get married in like. 40 out of 50 states."_

_"It's...objectively romantic."_

_"Not for lesbians in Indiana"_

_"Yeah, well lucky for us we don't live in Indiana"_

_"I thought you said we werent gonna get married."_

* * *

Catra just wants to get paid and go home.

The music is so loud she can feel them in her feet. Through _actual shoes_ that she's forced to wear for gigs. What's the point of shoes if you can still feel the floor through them, huh? 

She's at the reception, because the couple thought inviting her to come listen and dance to someone _else_ 's music would be a good consolation for paying her the absolute fucking bare minimum, and she wanted a free meal, so she'd agreed.

But, it turns out they didn't actually have . seat for her, so here Catra was, sitting at the bar even though she couldn't drink unless she _wanted_ to kickstart a manic episode, feeling the thrum of bass in her chest and wishing that she was drunk enough thar her mind couldn't wander.

She people-watches for a little, chewing on the leftover ice from her watet cup to give her mouth something to do, but that starts making her hungry, so she stops. The boosted bass feels almost like a second heartbeat, and she blinks through the strobe lights, trying to make out figures in the hotel carpet.

Things are chill. She's totally cool. But then her brain goes and ruins it. 

_Things wouldn't suck so much if Adora were here._

Ah, Adora...she may have forgotten to mention her.

She doesn't even know why she thought it- things have honestly been fine. She hadn't forgotten to take her meds recently, or relapsed, or _anything_ . Catra genuinely doesn't think her life sucks _that_ much that she needs someone who doesnt need her back, but her intrusive thoughts disagree.

 _Adora._ Now, there's a topic she could busy herself with hating.

The horrible thing when a relationship ends without closure, is that you don't ever stop thinking about it. Not truly. You think you've moved on, think you've rationalised every moment of what happened to a bloody pulp and there is absolutely nothing left to overthink, and then another moment,another memory that you've repressed comes back,and suddenly it's like it's just happened.

It's been three years since she and Adora stopped talking. _Three. Years._ And she was still mentioning her to her therapist, to Scorpia whenever the two vented together in the early morning hours, when Catra was just getting back from work and Scorpia was just waking up, and the two shared a ritualistic breakfast slash post-work meal. 

It's been three years, and Catra has yet to move on. 

* * *

_The bride and groom said they could play whatever they wanted after midnight. It was their own fault, really._

_One can't expect two 16 year olds who listen to exclusively alt pop rock and who play classical instruments to not play something edgy when given the opportunity._

> _Take my eyes_
> 
> _Take them aside_

_Adora was shredding on the viola, while Catra was playing a spare snare drum while singing vocals, and they sound...fine, given the circumstances. Not that anyone there, including Adora and Catra themselves, really cared how they sounded._

_The guests were too drunk to care, and their actual employers had left to go do whatever newlyweds did, and as the only sober people in a room full of drunks, they had to make their fun somehow._

> _Take my face_
> 
> _And desecrate_
> 
> _My arms and legs._
> 
> _They get in the way-ay_

_A few guests were still dancing, miraculously; a positively zooted older couple in the corner was slow dancing to the too-fast beat, a frat boy grinded on his girlfriend in the other corner. Adora had laughter in her eyes as she played the staccato beat of the song, the restaurant's dim lights reflected just so in her eyes_

_Fuck. Catra had to stop going to so many weddings. They were going to make her crazy._

> _Take my hands_
> 
> _They'll understand_

_Adora had leaned in sideways to sing backup into the same mic, and their arms brushed lightly. She gave Catra a sideways look through her lashes, the kind reserved only for two people who are in on something together, a private look. Catra's voice shook on the next line_

> _And take my heart_
> 
> _Pull it apart-art_

_Was it possible for you to fall in love with someone over again? Was it normal for your heart to melt again when it had already long since been in a puddle on the floor?_

_Catra didn't know. She didn't even know what love was, not really. She hadn't even passed Algebra 2 yet, how was she supposed to define love?_

> _Take my brain_
> 
> _Or what remains and throw it_
> 
> _All away_

_She didnt know what love was, or even if she felt it, but she knew that however she felt about adora, whatever it was, it was the most important thing, period. If that wasn't love, then screw it._

_If love didnt feel like Adora made her feel, then it didnt matter anyway._

> _Because I've grown tired of this body_
> 
> _A cumbersome and heavy body_

_As the song continued, Adora got more comfortable, more lazy, until she and Catra had foregone instruments all together save for the snare that Catra was still steadily hitting and belting (badly, but this late in the night did it really matter?) into the same mic, so close that they were breathing the same air._

_When they finished, the wedding guests erupted in applause. It wasn't because they were good, it was because they were drunk, but it was electric anyway._

_Catra smiled at her girlfriend, and things were finally, preciously, tentatively good._

_Things would change._

* * *

After three years, Catra still wonders what went wrong. 

She and Adora were _inseperable_ between the ages of 13 and 23. They went through middle school, high school, _college_ without any wavering in their friendship, then relationship.They didn't even go to the same college, and things were still great between them. They went to school together, lived together, _worked_ together for ten fucking years, so why couldn't it have stayed that way?

They graduated college, and suddenly their wedding gig wasn't good enough for Adora. She wanted more; wanted to _thrive_ in a music career, not just survive. And Catra wanted it too, but not just yet. They were only 23 and had steady jobs doing what they loved. Stability was the first step to healing, and Catra had a fuckton of healing to do. 

So they broke it off. The band, not the relationship. Although, the fact that they hadnt talked in three years speaks for the relationship. And Adora recorded an EP in their bathroom, and signed onto an Actual Band with a Real Record label, and then she went and made her own, and soon enough _She Ra and the Brightmoon Band_ was touring internationally, and here Catra was, doing the same thing she had since she was sixteen years old. Talking herself into thinking she was content with it.

And suddenly, this isn't what she wants anymore. She wants Adora. She always has.

Not that she wants to want her. Not that it does her any good in her solitude. Not that it's reciprocated. 

* * *

_"That was insane"_

_"Did you see those old people in the back?"_

_"Absolutely jackhammered."_

_It was 2 am on a school night and they were walking back home, lugging their amp and equipment a mile and a half because neither of them was old enough to drive yet, but it didn't matter. The evening was pleasantly cool after the stuffy broil of stage lights in such a cramped room. Adora was flushed, hair stringy with sweat, and Catra thought she was beautiful._

_They were sitting on the curb near their local In n Out. They had walked physically through the drive through because, again, no car and they didn't want to carry a 6 ft amp stand into a burger joint._

_"Were we even that good?"_

_"Do you care?"_

_"No?"_

_"Also No."_

_"It was fun, though"_

_"Yeah."_

_"We should probably go, before shadow weaver realises that i'm not, in fact, a mop."_

_"Bold of you to act like she's even still home at 2 am on a weekday" Catra says, taking a bite of her sandwich._

_"Youre right. For a moment I lived in a world where we had parents who cared."_

_"Hey. You're not allowed to say stuff like that."_

_"Hm? Why not?"_

_"Because you're the romantic one, and i'm the edgy fuck. Its our whole brand."_

_"Need I remind you again of who introduced you to Blink 182?"_

_"You didnt listen to I Miss You every day for half of eigth grade."_

_"I can be edgy too, Catra"_

_"You're a Violist."_

_"So?"_

_"Nobody who plays in alto clef can be considered edgy."_

_"Uh, pot calling the kettle black! You play trombone"_

_"Played"_

_"You're still in marching band"_

_"I don't go. I'm a recovering trombone player"_

_They were close again, closer than before. Now, their lips were close enough to brush each other. Catra felt about as flushed aa her girlfriend looked._

_"Mm. You're not going to make a very good lawyer if you keep digging yourself into a hole like this."_

_It was an ongoing joke- they always lied to shadow weaver every time they had band practice, or a performance, saying they were going to law club instead of practicing the devil's rock and roll, or whatever her church was spewing this week._

_"Doesnt matter how deep a hole I dig, when you're there to pull me out."_

_It was sappy, unlike Catra. Maybe they'd switched places tonight._

_"I love you," Adora said. And the way she said it threw catra off balance, made her heart beat in a way that still caught her off guard every single time, as if it was the first._

_Maybe Catra didn't know what love was, but Adora did. And she thought it was this, and Catra trusted her judgement possibly more than her own._

_"Can I kiss you? "She asked, and Catra nodded, and the kiss rocked Catra to her core, just like it did every time._

_If Adora could call this fragile, soft, precious thing they had carved for themselves out of all that hate and suffering love, then so could catra. If Adora could keep it stoked, protect it, then so could Catra._

_If Adora could believe in love, then so could Catra_

* * *


	2. Peach and Ivory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adora goes to a wedding, and Catra has the worst day ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all!! i procrastinated with this!! Enjoy!!

"Adora, you're really gonna have to find your own date to these things eventually. 

Adora sighed, adjusting her clothes as she and Bow stepped out of the car. If they've been through this once,they've been through it a thousand times. 

"I know, bow. I just-"

"I know, you don't date because of your career, and I don't mind going to weddings with you, but you really need to branch out. Plus,,,,ya know,,,,, i have a girlfriend" 

"Who drove _us_ here and is sitting at our table, and you're going to spend time with all night"

"Well, _yeah_ , but I'd _really_ like it if you could find one 

"Ya know, not everything is about dating."

"Yeah, but it is for _you_. One day, we're not gonna be here to listen to you wax poetic about hallmark movies at all hours of the morning, and as your friend I want to make sure you're taken care of."

"Thanks, bow. But really, I'm okay. I'm married to my work."

"Sounds like a toxic relationship to me" Glimmer came up behind them,swinging her keys on one finger.

"Wha- _No._ No it's _not._ We're soulmates, me and work!"

"You are _such_ a paradox"

It's not that they _wanted_ to be here. Adora would much rather be practicing, or working on the album they were due to release _last month_ , or doing absolutely anything but going to a wedding. For...several reasons. One, it was...unproductive. Two, she was lonely and didn't like the reminder. And Three, well… Their producer was getting married, and -don't get her wrong, Adora was grateful to be signed to a label and be able to play at all- but they were clearly invited as a formality. A room full of close friends, family, oh, and those kids the groom gives money to make music so he can earn more money! Neat!

They found their table quickly enough, after spending far too much time trying to navigate the cream walls and marble floors, and Adora slipping around in rental heels that she would take off the _second_ she was sitting down. The actual party room was pretty- it stuck with the wedding colors of peach and ivory (don't ask her how she knows what those colors are called) and had gold accents. Adora would be fully content to sit, looking at the decorations all night and eating excessively fancy food while her friends danced, to let the gentle buzz of alcohol block out all the memories that wanted to come back. She would have been fine doing _nothing_.

The problem was, _nothing_ didn't happen. The exact _opposite_ of nothing happened- the _one thing_ she couldn't handle happened. 

The band started playing, and she looked up.

* * *

Catra could _not_ have been having a worse day.

It was like god was looking down, and thinking "oh, you're having a rough day? You haven't seen _anything_ yet. bitch" and decided to torment her at least once an hour on the dot. 

The intrusive thoughts last night turned into a whole _saga_ of Adora-related angst, turned into a night full of _dreams_ about Adora. Actual, real, full length dreams. As if she was sixteen again! Dreams full of late nights working and special, secret spaces and calm grey eyes and- and just Adora. The dreams made her sleep in later than usual, until she had to rush to get ready and not be late. This led to her skipping breakfast, and having to swallow her meds dry as she was backing her car out of the driveway (she has a car now, though! That's progress!) Just when she didn't think the morning could get worse, she promptly hit an icy patch and spun out, almost hitting other oncoming cars. After another 20 minutes of the guy she almost hit giving her a condescending, and very unwanted drivers ed lesson, with Catra verbally crippled by the terror of almost driving right off an overpass, she was set free and _just_ made soundcheck, hair unbrushed, dressed for the occasion only in the most basic sense of the phrase. 

She would have had the sound check to calm down a little, if she wasn't _freezing._ It was far too late that she realized the nagging feeling she'd had the whole time that she had forgotten something was correct and she left her coat at home. Which would have been fine if she wore her usual getup. But the bride and groom had _insisted_ she wear a dress to the occasion to avoid controversy or whatever straight bullshit.

It was _fine._ It was _going_ to be fine, at least.

She was trying to be more optimistic, so she wasn't wallowing in self pity all the time, but the world seemed more intent to test her the harder she tried. 

But it was fine. She was gonna do the gig, get paid, go home at a normal-ish time, and crawl into the biggest sweater she could find in time to watch Scorpia watch Downton Abbey and make fun of all their accents. She even liked the first song on the setlist-the smiths were a _little_ edgy for a wedding, but the couple was like, _really_ into alt rock, so it made sense. Catra was pretty sure the guy was a music producer, but she wasn't really listening when he told her. It wasn't okay yet, but she could make the most of it. She could do this gig, and then move in and take this entire, crappy day and sh-

Fuck. 

Catra spared a glance at the wedding guests filtering into the reception hall, all suddenly all her optimism flew away like a winter migration. 

Catra's whole world, which she had spent the whole last few years molding into a shape that could accommodate the lack of a _someone else_ , and the last few months trying to pry that world back open again, tunneled.

Things were _not_ going to be fine

\-----------

_"So. What're you in for?"_

_"What?" Catra looked up from the floor tiles she had the very important task of counting at a voice next to her."_

_"Nothing," The source of the voice, a blonde girl that sat two seats away from her explained. "I've just always wanted to say that."_

_Catra was too young to fully understand why, but she was old enough to understand how these things usually went-_

_She would wait in this seat for hours, and if she was lucky, a lovely young couple, or a sweet old man or a darling family would stop by and be just so grateful for the opportunity to foster a child in their home. And then they'd meet Catra- all of seven and, apparently, precious- and they'd smile real big and sign some papers, and the social worker would help her load her things into the car and they'd drive to her brand new home!_

_Until the money came in. Then their smiles faded. Then, all of a sudden, Catra wasn't precious, anymore. She was an issue. And then it was back at square one again._

_The girl was new, though._

_"That's what they say in all the cop shows," The girl continued. "When the two perps are in the cell together."_

_"Ah." Catra nodded, and looked back at her floor tiles. Last time she'd counted 13 orange ones and 20 yellow ones. It was the same the time before that, and the time before that time, all the way back since she could remember. Maybe things would be different this time._

_"My old office used to play a lot of those shows"_

_Catra spared a glance up at the TV mounted on the beige wall, currently rolling through its typical asinine programming, a permanent source of background noise._

_“Yeah, well. We’re a reality show office, so get used to it.”_

_The girl next to her laughed, which meant that Catra couldn’t get away with ignoring her anymore. She was clutching a black trash bag full of her belongings, same as Catra. The horse on her shirt with it’s plastered, cartoony smile looked like it wanted to jump out of it’s hot-pink skin almost as much as the girl looked like she did. The laugh wasn’t nervous, though, so Catra thought that was a good sign._

_“I’m Catra.” she blurted, and surprised herself with the gesture. Usually Catra was more of a ‘wait-in-the-corner-until-people-introduced-themselves-first’ kind of kid._

_The girl was looking at her with wide gray eyes, crinkled at the edges from smiling. “Adora”_

_Maybe things would be different this time_

* * *

For a single, terrible moment, Adora and Catra locked eyes, and it couldn't be avoided any longer. Adora, who had already been eyeing the door, dropped whatever she was fidgeting with. Her blood ran cold, her face felt hot- the works. 

But, if there was anything she’d learned from her years of working weddings, through rain, sleet, snow, and abusive foster moms,it was that the show must go on. So, Catra lifted a bare arm to cue the band, and started singing.

> _Oh mother_
> 
> _I can feel the soil falling over my head_
> 
> _And if I climb into an empty bed_
> 
> _Oh well, enough said._

The bride and groom liked the smiths. Of _fucking course_ they did. They were _music producers_ , what did Adora think they were gonna have as their first dance music? _Ed Sheeran?_

And of fucking course it had to be _this song._ And, it had to be _Catra_ singing it. In. A. Dress. No. Less. As if she'd ever worn one in her life aside from that time shadow weaver made them get confirmed, but she looked nice still. Or, maybe she wore them more often now, maybe she was a dress person. _Maybe things have changed.It’s only been three years, Adora, could things have changed that much, and-_

It's times like these Adora wishes she didn't know every word to this song. That she could pretend to only dimly hear the words. She wishes she could bring herself to look away.

> _I know it's over, still I cling_
> 
> _I_ _don't know where else I can go_
> 
> _Over, over_

Catra didn't want to be here, for a whole SLEW of reasons, only half of which were adora- related. She didn't want to be here, or singing this song, in _this_ context. But if she was gonna suffer through it, (if she still wanted to live somewhere with hot water, she’d have to.)

..the look on Adora's face made it almost worth it. Almost.

She hadn't changed at all in 3 years. She still sat ramrod straight from the year her adopted parents sent her to military school, only to decide that they didn't feel like having a child anymore and threw her back into the system, only to end up on Shadow Weaver's doorstep, yet again. So much for forever home.

She looked nice.

> _I know it's over_
> 
> _And it never really began_
> 
> _But in my heart_
> 
> _It was so real_
> 
> _And you really spoke to me and said_

It's funny, how you can spend all your time convincing yourself that you're over someone, that you don't still have feelings for them, throwing yourself into project after project to avoid thinking about anything else, how quickly things come back. How the familiar contour of arms, legs, eyes will send you on a sprint down memory lane, coming to a crashing halt at- you love her.

You _loved_ her. Past tense. Now, you're strangers at a wedding that isn't yours. Now, you have a crowd of people and a dance floor space between you. Now, you're the only two people in the world.

> _If you're so funny, then why're you on your own tonight?_

_Was_ Adora alone? Catra didn't see anyone with her. She'd walked in with two other people- her bandmates, as Catra's favorite toxic pastime of online stalking had informed her. Maybe she was dating one of them, but they didn’t look like her type. 

Did she even have a type? Whatever it was, it wasn’t Catra. Maybe it had become boys in crop tops and girls with pink hair somehow, when Catra wasn’t looking

> _And if you're so clever, then why are you on your own tonight?_

Adora didn't WANT to wonder how Catra was doing, where she was living now that it wasnt with her, if her pet goldfish had died yet.

Did she have a girlfriend? She _had_ to have one- it was _Catra_ . Did she come today? Were they in another band together? Was the _Guitarist_ her girlfriend? She did look very flirty when she played that riff-

 _Shut up, Adora_. You don't care about that, she told herself. 

She didn't listen. 

> _And if youre so very entertaining, then why're you on your own tonight?_

Halfway through the song, Adora was _still_ looking at her. Huh. To be fair, Catra was still looking back. But, she was at work. She was allowed to look wherever she _wanted_. 

Yeah- why should _Catra_ feel uncomfortable at work, hm? She was the one who was being paid to be here, _Adora_ should be backing down.

...but she Didn't. She just kept staring back, like a deer in ex-shaped headlights.

Did they count as exes? They never _broke up_ , really.

Fuck it. If she had to be here, cold, scared, and uncomfortable, she was gonna bring Adora down with her

She retrained her gaze on Adora, but more purposefully. No longer trying to hide the fact she was looking right at her with a thousand-yard- stare, Catra looked Adora right in the eye and sang

> _And if youre so very good looking_
> 
> _Why do you sleep alone tonight?_

Was...was Catra looking at her at that part? Well, yeah she was looking in her general direction, but that could have been a coincidence. Catra’s eyes were trained on her, with a look that verged on maybe angry, maybe intense focus, maybe amusement.

Why did Catra have to be so confusing all the time? And why did Adora have to fall for it?

> _I know, because tonight is just like any other night_
> 
> _That's why you're on your own tonight_

It looked like Adora wasn’t with anyone. Out of the corner of her eye, Jubilee and Hawkeye, or whoever her bandmates’ names were, kissed in the middle of their dance. And, Catra knew for a FACT that Adora was a serial monogamist, or else her drunken ramblings through college were lies.

Adora was single. That was. A discovery. Catra couldn’t decide how she felt about it.

 _Fuck_ , the part she dreaded this whole time was coming up. Could this get any worse?

> _Love is natural and real, but not for you my love_
> 
> _Not tonight my love_

Adora wan’t stupid- she knew that catra wasn’t singing to her specifically; she was Working, and the couple she was working for had requested this song specifically. So, why did it feel so personal? Why, when Catra looked at her and said ‘my love’, did it remind her of a time where she said it to Adora? And why in _hell_ did she care so damn much! 

She and Catra weren’t in love. They weren’t friends...not anymore. She wasn’t allowed to think those things about someone who hated her (and, for a valid reason)

> _Love is natural and real_
> 
> _But not for such as you and I_
> 
> _My love_

Well, wasn’t that the truth?

Yes, Catra was at work, and yes this song had been picked for months in advance of this moment. But in her deluded, caffeine-less, lovesick heart, it may as well have been a confrontation. She wanted to yell. She wanted to knock over the mic stand and punch her bassist in the face for no reason, and run out the door as quick as her bare legs could take her. She also wanted to sit on the stage, curl up into an underclothed little ball and cry into the mic for the rest of the evening. She was a complicated person- she could want both!

She wanted to scream at Adora, yell in her face about all the damage she’d done, to show Adora instead of tell her how fucked up she was. She wanted to show her all the ways she’d healed, too; all the good the past year of trying to pick up the pieces has done her. She wanted to apologize- she knows she’s done nothing wrong. 

She wanted to go home.

* * *

> **King of Riffs:** you just made puppy eyes at the singer for that whole song. Just go say hi
> 
> **Adorabowl:** NO BOW. NO ABSOLUTELY NO NOT EVER. NOPE.
> 
> **Prime Minister of War Crimes:** this is why ur single
> 
> **Adorabowl:** being single is a choice, glimmer A MINDSET. ... I’m surprised y’all came up for air long enough to see it
> 
> **King of Riffs:** so, you don’t deny the puppy eyes
> 
> **Prime Minister of War Crimes:** OOO he’s GOT YOU, ADORA
> 
> **Adorabowl:** THEY WEREN”T PUPPY EYES
> 
> … I just rlly like this song
> 
> …
> 
> and besides, I don’t need to talk to her, because I’m not interested in her
> 
> **Adorabowl:** Married to my work! Remember?
> 
> ...Guys?

Bow and Glimmer didn’t need to know.

Adora was perfectly content just sitting here for the rest of the evening, avoiding Catra’s two-toned gaze and trying not to aggravate her IBS more than she already does. Then again, she would have been content doing that anyway, but now her idle was purposeful. 

If she told her friends, they wouldn’t leave her alone about it. It would be “apologize to her! Make up! Get married and have seven children!” constantly. Every day. She loved them as much as she could love anyone, but she worked with them for god’s sake, lived with them. There had to be a work life balance.

Hah. That was funny. Adora wasn’t unaware of the irony of her saying that- as someone with zero quantifiable life outside of her music, she was one to talk about work-life balance. 

She wasn’t going to tell them about Catra. They weren’t going to find out. 

* * *

“We know about Catra.”

Adora jumped in her seat, almost knocking over a very expensive looking decorative water pitcher. “Glimmer!”

“Relax, we didn’t talk to her or anything!”

“Oh, thank go-”

“We just talked to her bassist!”

Adora turned the same color ivory as the tablecloths. 

“His name is Sea hawk” Bow chimed in from her other side, helping her steady the centerpiece.

”Weird name, if you ask me,but he didn’t tell us any other one.”

“He is so cool, Adora!”

“He’s not that cool-”

“He lives on a boat!”

“Lived.”

“Only because it burned down, otherwise he’d still be there.” Bow and Glimmer did the couple thing where they communicated through pointed looks. It never stopped being creepy, not even now.

“Now, he lives on his girlfriend’s couch. Great life goals,”

“Glimmer, I know that’s sarcasm, I’m just electing to ignore it.”

“Wow, sounds like that guy gave you his life story, huh.” Adora said, trying to sneak out from between her friends. “Come to think of it, I actually have to go to the bathroom now-”

“Oh, no you don’t” Glimmer whirled on her, as if she could sense Adora’s absence in the middle of her staring contest with Bow. “You’re gonna wanna hear this.”

Adora laughed nervously, tugging on the end of her ponytail. “..What is it, then?”

“Okay, so he told us her name is Catra, she’s 23, and she’s a wedding singer full-time.”Glimmer started, her eyes lighting up like her namesake. 

Adora breathed a sigh of relief. They know about Catra, but not about her and Catra. Good. That was good. She could still save this. 

“And she plays guitar! And Piano! ”Bow popped in, always knowing the perfect time to talk, and when to stop. He and Glimmer were perfect like that; so in sync they could finish each others sentences without interrupting. 

“She doesn’t drink, has a car, and her own business”

“The wedding band business! Isn’t that cool?”

“She’s noncommittal, but Sea Hawk thinks it’s just because she’s going through a really bad breakup, and she’ll be back on the horse soon enough.”

“Most importantly,” Bow paused dramatically, giving Adora a serious look “She likes olives!”

“...What does that have to do with anything”

Bow lit up in the same way Glimmer had earlier. They were always matching like that. 

It wasn’t that she was jealous of them- Adora was happy for her friends,and wanted the to be happy too. It’s just that seeing them; a pair of childhood friends who eventually got their shit together and started dating reminded her of… well...

“Catra,” Bow started to explain, not for the first time. “She likes olives. You do not. It means you’re perfect, because you can give her your olives and she’ll eat them!”

“And you say I’m too romantic,” Adora turned to leave, completely finished with this conversation.”I appreciate your help, guys. But-”

“No, not again!”

“Adora, please just give her a chance!” 

Adora rolled her eyes at her friends. “Why are you so hung up on her specifically?”

“Because she has a real job!”

“One that doesn’t include beating people up!”

“And she’s cute!”

“And you’re both musicians!”

“And you Like Her.”

Adora was making a steady, determined progress towards the exit, walking backwards while Glimmer and Bow followed her. In her haste, she distinctly did not realise that the band had dispersed for a break, and had been replaced with a spotify playlist and speakers. Which meant that Catra was no longer on her radar. It was fine, though! Whatever! She didn’t own Catra, didn’t need to know where she was at all times! Except now, gracefully and carefully avoiding her would be a lot harder. 

Jeez, couldn’t a girl pee in peace?

“I’m going to the bathroom”

Glimmer sighed in that way that was somehow far more aggressive than when she yelled. “We just want you to be happy, Adora!”

“I am happy!”

“The next time you call me, crying on the bathroom floor, drunk about your lack of girlfriend, I’ll quote this very moment.”

“Okay, okay. I get it.” Adora conceded. Glimmer could always cut to the heart of whatever bullshit Adora constructed to protect herself, which was both a blessing and a curse of their friendship. It meant that there were no big secrets, no growing bitterness between them, since glimmer could practically sniff out when Adora was feeling insecure and shut it down just as quickly. The downside was that she never let things slide, especially when they were Adora and Loneliness related. It could be overwhelming at times. Adora was used to hiding her emotions from everyone, and now, well...the jig was up. 

“Seriously, though. I have to pee”

* * *

_“you...play viola.”_

_It was a few years after their initial meeting, and Catra was older and angrier. All of eleven, she was getting real sick of having her shit in a suitcase at all times, unsure if she would have to run, or if foster services would rip her from her new life prematurely this time._

_Adora had been a constant. A...distant constant, yes- the two hadn’t really spoken since they started middle school- but it gave Catra a weird sense of comfort in those moments where she wasn’t sure what the future would hold, that Adora was only a few seats away in class, feeling the same way._

_“uh. Yeah!”_

_Adora looked up from her sheet music, and blinked at Catra from under the harsh lights of the auditorium. Her hair was tied up in it’s usual fashion, and she was wearing another horse shirt- in this one, the horse wasn’t pink, so Catra supposed it was an upgrade._

_Catra had hoped the place would be empty, so she could practice with the school’s baby grand instead of her own, shitty keyboard. Maybe this wouldn’t be as much of a disappointment, Catra conceded. Adora did play viola._

_“I know most people go for Violin, but I like the range of notes!” Adora justified herself. Why did she feel the need to do that?_

_“i love viola.”_

_“you play?”_

_“Nah,,,,piano…”_

_“ oh, nice!” Adora said, but the way she said it was enough to make you actually believe it was true._

_“I actually am working on a duet right now with piano. Do you want to test it out?”_

_It wasn’t like she had anything better to do. “uh...yeah. yeah sure.”_

_She took a look at the music blankly, unsure how to start playing it._

_“This is...different” she tried, for once, to be nice about it. It wasn’t bad, necessarily, just...hard to play on piano and get the sound she probably wanted from it._

_“its inspired by my favorite band”_

_“...which is…”_

_“ My Chemical Romance”_

_Catra nearly choked in stifling her laugh._

_“What?”_

_“Nothing!”_

_“What’s funny?”_

_“Nothing!! It’s just- I didn’t expect that from…”_

_“Well, why not? It’s not like I hide it!”_

_“I’m not trying to make fun of you, Adora, it’s just…” Catra looked at the music one last time. “This would be better on guitar.”_

_Adora looked up at her, curiously. “Do you play?”_

_“No...but I could start.”_

* * *

Catra was already having a terrible, just absolutely shit tier day. Adora didn’t help, and neither did Morrisey- the bastard, writing songs about things being over. It’s like he knew.

As she sat down in the bathroom stall on her break,trying to breathe in and out like a normal fucking person, she tried to remind herself that , in fact not everything was about her, and the things that pissed her off were coincidental and not personal attacks. But, when you run into the person you were up all night thinking about at work, and then have to sing one of your collective favorite songs while making uncomfortable eye contact, it certainly fucking feels like it. 

Catra walked out of the stall to go wash her face in the sink, and it was this ultimately that sealed the deal on her ‘malicious divine intervention’ theory.

Because there, only two sinks next to her, stood Adora in the fancily-dressed fucking flesh, washing her hands like noting was wrong. 

Fuck. This. Day. 

Adora jumped when she saw her. 

“Uh. Hey!” The blonde tried, but Catra was having none of it, for reasons that were only half Adora’s fault. 

“Hey.” Catra scrubbed her hands under the sink, refusing to look up, feeling Adora’s eyes on her. She scrubbed harder, the cold water making her hands go numb. 

“Uh...It’s been a while, huh?” 

Shit. Wrong thing to say, Adora. 

Catra exhaled, in what could have been disdainful laughter, or could have been a nervous tick, and splashed the sink water on her face. “Yeah. Wonder who decided on that.”

“Oh.” Adora stopped, realising her mistake, and suddenly she wanted to crawl into the deepest hole on etheria and drown herself in the groundwater. Or, if she was lucky, the hole would be deep enough that she could burn to death in the magma at the center of the earth’s core. 

‘I’m...I’m sor-”

“Don’t be.”

And with that, Catra walked out, hands still wet, balled up into fists at her sides. 

Adora followed not long after, having sufficiently beat herself up to the sight of her own reflection in the mirror.

As soon as she walked out, Glimmer was waiting for her, with a giddy smile on her face. 

“...so? How did it go-”

“Not well.” Adora gritted her teeth, and said far more harshly than she needed to. 

“What happened."

“Catra and I know each other already...we have for a while.”

“And you just realized this now?”

“Well, No.” Adora sighed and rubbed a hand over her face. “That’s why I was looking at her weird earlier.”

"Uh.” It took herculean effort for Adora to breathe in and say “She’s My old partner- I MEAN-" She scrunched up her face in agony "we used to be in a band together. Catra…”

Glimmer gave her a long, skeptical look, before taking a deep breath and yelling "Boooow?"

"Wha- don't- heeey, bow!"

"What is it? What happened?"

"I found Adora's secret girlfriend."

"It's Catra the wedding singer, isn't it-"

"IT'S HER"

"I didn't _say_ that."

"You didn't have to."

"She's not- not anymore- I-" Adora was panicking, she knew that, she- it was happening and she couldn't stop it. 

Catra was- and here she- and she tried- and _Catra,_ she just- and it's been so long and-

"Hey." A warm hand fell on her shoulder, steadying her. This breath was far easier. 

"I'm sorry we overwhelmed you."

"I- no, it's okay, it's just- _seeing_ her? It's a lot. And- and I-"

"Hey, it's alright. We can go somewhere and talk about it?"

"...I don't really…"

"We really think you should, Adora. Whatever happened, the result is _clear._ " Glimmer popped in, in usual fashion, having dialed it way back.

"You don't have to tell us if you don't want to, but you really should."

Another good things about having friends who could read you like a book, was when it got to be too much, they knew, and you never had to say anything.

Adora loved them, truly. Even if their constant coupley-ness got to be a bit annoying sometimes.

"I… no, you're right. If i'm going to talk about it to anyone, I want it to be you guys." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song- I Know It's Over by The Smiths
> 
> everyone comment w your favorite Catradora songs- atm mine are Nicest Thing by Kate Nash and Promise from the she-ra soundtrack

**Author's Note:**

> Song title- Maybe Love is True by Michael Blume  
> Song in fic- Body by Mother Mother 
> 
> Please let me know what youd like to see from this fic in the future! I have a very loose outline and thats it.


End file.
